


My Little Smackerooni

by Laurasauras



Series: AO3 Anniversary Flash Fiction [26]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Celebrity Crush, I Got So Carried Away, M/M, Original Horse Character - Freeform, fanfic giveaway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 01:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Jake has a meeting withtheDave Strider, maker of the amazing SBaHJ movies. He's just as weird in real life as he is in the interviews.





	My Little Smackerooni

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meister (CruelInsanity)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelInsanity/gifts).



> ultistes-meister asked:
> 
> How about alpha DaveJake, Jake being an actor, meeting director Dave Strider for the first time? Something wholesome is craved.

You've seen all of Dave Strider's movies, of course. Everybody has, and while you're quite certain that there's more to them than you can understand, you do love them a whole bunch. You might even go so far as to say they're your favourite movies, but you never can choose.

You watched them all again in preparation for this interview, even enlisting your best friend's help in order to get the order "right" and you were just as blown away as the last time you saw them. Dirk insisted on coming over and providing commentary, which usually you wouldn't be able to stand (who talks during movies??) but in this case it was actually helpful. You feel less like a dumb sheep person only in it for the toilet humour and more like someone who Mr Strider just maybe might be able to respect.

You're still so new to movies, so you have no idea if this is usual or not, but your agent seemed surprised and wary when he called her personally and arranged a meeting. Again, personally. She warned you to be careful in a way that was honestly very sweet. 

Which you brushed off at the time, but now you find yourself remembering. The building you're in is so very weird.

There are props from the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff movies everywhere, and you had assumed that the glitchy awful effect was done with CGI no matter how much Dirk insisted that it was legit until you saw them in person. The walls are painted in eye-meltingly neon colours that all clash with each other to the point where it almost cancels out again. There's a cheerful poster on the wall that says, "My Fans Are My Favourite Kind Of Idiots" with a drawing of Sweet Bro underneath. You recognise the quote from an interview Strider did. It wasn't received well by the media, but the fans who insisted they knew his sense of humour loved it. 

The weirdest thing, however, is that an actual real life horse is behind the receptionist desk. You've been making eye contact with it for the past five minutes, trying to decide whether your dignity can afford talking to them as if they aren't a horse.

Eventually, you decide that one of you has to make a decision. You don't think it's going to be the horse.

'Good morning!' you say cheerily. 'I have an appointment with Mr Strider.'

The horse whinnies, loudly. You can't help but step back in surprise.

An intercom beeps.

'Yeah, send him in, Anpony,' a voice says.

The horse steps out from behind the desk and towards you. You take another step backwards. It's not that you don't like horses, horses are great, you're just not entirely convinced this one isn't possessed by the devil.

With you backing away and the horse following you, you feel incredibly stupid. Then the horse reaches out and grabs you by the belt and you feel so incredibly alarmed that your concerns about feeling stupid stop registering.

'Woah there!' you say. 'That's not on, friendo! Could you perhaps release me? You're rather close to my love rod there, I'd certainly appreciate that not being the case!'

The horse tugs and you are literally unable to resist lurching forward. It does it again and your hands fall on their neck to avoid falling over. The horse releases you and steps fancily in the same direction it was pulling you. You let go, and they go for your belt again. You slap your hands to their neck quickly, having received the message loud and clear.

The horse leads you through an open door to the side of the room that you hadn't noticed, what with being rather distracted by the everything, and right up to a fancy desk. Strider himself is leaning on it, signature shades obscuring his expression and looking completely at ease.

'Thanks, Anpony,' he says. 'Could you get us some coffee?'

The horse shakes their head and you take it you are allowed to let them go now. They bob their head dramatically at Strider before turning and trotting back to the desk. Is it actually going to get coffee? No, that's insane.

'Dumb horse,' Strider says. 'Do you know how many trainers I've bought for that guy? Still can't get me coffee. I want a refund.'

You stare at him in utter shock. He stares back, completely neutrally. This has to be some kind of test.

'Good morning Mr Strider my name is Jake English and you asked for a meeting with me and now I'm here,' you blurt out, your utter discombobulation making it all come out with no pauses or emphasis.

He finally reacts, just one side of his mouth pulling upwards in a very Dave Strider smirk. You think you might swoon. It's actually him. And he's actually every bit as insane as he comes across in interviews.

'Why is your secretary a horse?' you ask.

You probably could have kept the lid on that, pretended you were cool and just gone with it. Dirk probably would have understood the reference instantly, but even though you've watched all his movies in the last week, you have no fucking idea what's going on.

'Oh, Anpony was in sbahj the film. I kept him because I love him.'

'Mr Strider, I mean you no disrespect but I have watched every one of your marvelous movies and I did not see a single live horse,' you say.

And then of course you cover your mouth because you just contradicted a world-famous director about his own movies. You are a giddy goat.

He smirks even wider.

'No one questions me anymore, good on you, kid. Yeah, we used CG horses in the end, but I hired Anpony so that my animators knew how a horse moved. And then told them that they were not allowed to let it look remotely like that. It's the experience, you know. It takes skill to draw something bad.'

You have no idea if he's serious or not. 

'Plus, his nose is like the softest thing ever, did you feel it?'

'Mr Strider why am I here?' you exclaim, much too loud. 

Strider's eyebrows raise above his aviators in surprise. 

'I'm making another movie. Always another movie. Comically misspelt, of course. Anyway, fuck buckets, am I right? Ha, that's almost a pun. Fuck the fuck buckets, that's our motto. You probably haven't seen them yet, but it's gonna be a thing, they're spreading it around in the rich snob crowd and it'll trickle down as a fad, that's how the witch works, and duh, I'm not invited because I'm insane and also I keep telling everyone how much I hate her, but I'm also sneaky as a horse, so I got people on the inside and by the time it's released to the general public, my movie will be through with production and I'll be the first one reacting to it.'

'Horses aren't sneaky,' you say. That was basically the only part of that you understood.

'You say that, but look behind you.'

You snap around, but Anpony is still at his desk. Strider starts laughing, properly laughing and you look at him in bewilderment. This is the weirdest job interview of your entire life.

He gets his breathing under control and wipes away probably imaginary tears under his shades. 

'I love new people,' he says. 'No one questions me and no one falls for my shit anymore. Sorry, I won't do that again. Probably. I dunno, I mean, I will if I think it'll be funny. He is sneaky though, motherfucker came up right behind me when I was using the urinal the other day. Rose was all, "Why were the washroom doors not shut," but like, first of all, he can open doors, he's the best. And secondly, I don't like to exclude him from my life. It'd be rude not to let him sneak up on me while I'm taking a whizz.'

He sits down on one of the chairs on your side of the desk and pats the other one invitingly.

'Also, he keeps nomming on my hair. I've told him it's hair and not straw, but you know, I don't speak horse, he doesn't speak English except for the commands I've given him ... It's a classic mix-up situation.'

You sit down in the offered chair. You're very much wondering when this will stop being about horses and start being about why you're here.

'Right, so, new movie,' he says, clapping his hands on your knees for emphasis. You hadn't realised the chairs were so close together until he did that. 

'Basically, buckets are the worst. Regular human sex is the best. That's the message. Anyway, I was flicking through channels at like, 4am a couple weeks ago, and there's you. More importantly, there's your butt. If there's a greater endorsement out there for the advantages of regular human sex than your ass, holy shit, sign me up. I have no idea what the show was about, I don't speak Spanish, but dayum, English.'

You blush, deeply. You haven't been in many movies yet, and you're bilingual, so your agent hooked you up with a foreign movie to fill out your reel. You know exactly the one he's talking about. The shorts were rather revealing.

'Hey, don't get the wrong idea,' Strider says, patting your knee again and then withdrawing so fast you almost get whiplash. 'I'm not doing a casting couch here, I'm not shooting a porno. I just want a bunch of really hot actors in my next movie, preferably unknown and willing to do stupid shit with me. Star power is good, and I couldn't have cast the main three better, but I like helping out the newbies.'

'What would I be doing?' you ask, willing yourself to be a bit more professional and a lot less blushy. You're actually almost disappointed that he doesn't want anything from you. You're such a strumpet.

'Eh, I don't really know yet. I write scripts but they get weird when I try and make shit happen on the screen. I thought I'd mostly free ball this one. Well, I'll still have a script, or ten, whatever, but everyone else can free ball it.'

'Are you sure you're not trying anything on, Mr Strider?' you tease before you think better of it.

Strider's face was pointed at his hands, where he was fidgeting with his watch, but when you speak it snaps up to look at your face.

'I mean, I really wasn't trying to flirt then, I'm pretty terrible at it, but if you want to interpret flirting as a thing that's happening you are more than welcome to do that,' he says.

'God,' he says, before you can respond. 'I heard that, I heard how awkward that sentence was. It was like, up there with the most awkward come ons I've tried. It was like, if pick up lines were animals, you were flirting like a graceful ... horse. God damn, Anpony, I was so much better at similes before he moved in. Whatever, I was like a blobfish, all at the bottom of the sea, blobbing around, my face melting into my body like it had no business staying taut and like I can't afford the botox I almost certainly have never tried.'

He might be the most famous person you've ever met and also at least a decade older than you, but he's actually rather hopeless. You pat him on the knee reassuringly and he covers your hand with his own for a moment, squeezing it gently and then he's out of the chair and pacing around the room.

'Anyway, this went just about as well as any of my meetings go, I'm gonna let you leave before you start thinking I'm some kind of lecherous old man, and I'll get in contact with your agent once I find some other hot people for my movie. Um, assuming you still want to be in it. Or ever did. I forgot to ask.'

On the one hand, you don't fancy getting your start as an actor through coquettish means. On the other, he wants to hire you anyway, so you don't think that's a problem. And on a third hand, extending from your chest or something, Dirk would actually physically murder you if you told him you had the chance to kiss your mutual hero and you passed it up. 

You don't want to die like that, it wouldn't be very heroic of you! So, you stand up and extend your hand to him like you're going to shake his all gentlemanly-like. He takes it hesitantly.

'I would love to be in your movie, even if it is only out of appreciation for the ol' caboose,' you say.

He stares at your hand, which is still firmly holding his. 

'And, for that matter, if you ever wanted to board the caboose in question, you've got the ticket whenever you want to redeem it!'

His mouth falls open. You choose to see this as a good sign.

You wink saucily at him and pull on his hand so he's within kissing range, tug him down for a smackerooni and release him. 

'What just happened?' he says.

'I planted one on you like a horticulturist with a free afternoon. Make of that what you will, Strider.'

'Can I kiss you again?' he asks, sounding honestly bewildered.

Well, as fun as it would be to let him dangle, you're not that cruel. You grin at him. 

'Do your worst,' you say.


End file.
